The adrenaline crash is hitting me hard. I’m tired and sore and I just want a shower and bed.
Stefan continues his inspection, checking sight lines from windows, testing locks, noting entrances and exits. Every single observation gets another disappointed sigh.
When he’s done, he moves toward the door, keys jangling in his hand.
My heart leaps in fear. Is he done already? Is he leaving?
Something akin to panic flutters in my chest at the thought of being alone.
“Let me at least check that wound properly,” I blurt out. “Just to make sure it didn’t—that you didn’t— You don’t want it to get infected.”
He pauses. His expression is unreadable in the half-light of my entryway. “You did a good job the first time. I’m fine.”
“You’re already bleeding through the bandage,” I counter. “Sit dow
